Clippings and Snippets
by emeraldoni
Summary: We miss things as time flows, little scenes lost that would love to be revealed. Here are those little pictures in an odd collection of drabbles. Just for you.
1. Just in Case

**Just in Case**

By: emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: …_

Sakura sighed; chin in hand as she looked out upon the dusty deserted street. The sun loomed casting about waves of warmth and heat, tangible in the stagnant air. Sakura fanned herself with her hand, tempted to take something else off in her attempt to cool down. She decided against it. Maybe the Uchiha sector was practically empty most of the time, but she didn't want to take the chance, just in case. Sighing, she stared up at the pallid blue sky, longing in her heart.

"Sasuke…"

She loved sitting right here, on a random step near the entrance, just in case Sasuke came back early. It had felt like years, years of solitude, years of growth. Ah, she was just being a drama queen though. It hadn't been that long.

Sakura pulled her shining pink hair back, peeling the sweat soaked strands from her skin and tying them back into a loose ponytail. It was just so _goddamned hot_. She picked at the bindings around her chest, hoping that maybe she could go home soon and unwind the annoying wrappings. Her skirt had long since ridden up her thighs, revealing as much as modestly possible. The rest of her discarded clothing lay in a bundle next to her, far enough away to get rid of any added heat, which was kind of illogical, but, just in case, she made sure they were a distance from her self.

The cement that had been shaded in the once bitter cold morning was now bright in the sun, and Sakura cursed her body. She really should try to get up and move, she really should go home, but the hope that felt futile glued her rump to the unpadded ground.

"Dammit… this is his entire fault."

She really shouldn't subject her self to such pointless torture, but she did anyway. Well, she guessed she would just have to make due.

Sakura relaxed her body, making her body as limp as possible in the hope that maybe the heat would subside, just a bit, if her blood slowed. It didn't work, and Sakura bet that Sasuke wasn't warm at all, wherever he was.

Sakura blamed his past, which made him do such unplanned things. Sasuke seemed to be one that would plan and calculate and always be one step ahead of you, just in case. Damn Itachi, the bastard. Sasuke probably was much sweeter before the massacre of his clan. He probably didn't pull stupid things on a whim, or a feeling of ineptness.

Sakura pulled a face as her belly rumbled. Really, this was just getting too much. She should just go home, make some onigiri, then put the leftovers in the fridge. Waiting for something that probably wouldn't return in a long time was ridiculous. Unfortunately, her butt was still glued to the searing ground.

Sakura growled as she sneezed at the dust floating about her in a haze, cursing herself for being such a needy bitch. She should have thought up something better to say than 'I-love-you' to keep him around. Like that would work. Words didn't seem to hold much stock in Sasuke's point of view.

You know what? Damn him and his insatiable appetite. He had to be the best of the best; he had to get the best of the best. Why couldn't he just be satisfied with what he had, for once?

Naruto had promised her that he would bring Sasuke back, but knowing Naruto he would start a war instead. She should have probably gone out looking for him herself, just in case, but it was too late now.

Sakura thought about primping herself, just in case he came back early in a sick twist of fate, but decided against it. The unlikelihood was too high, and making her self look nice was just too much trouble in the first place. Besides, she was kunoichi and kunoichi weren't expected to be beauty queens, especially if they had her reputation as a kick ass bitch.

Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration.

Sakura wasn't well known enough to have a reputation, in her opinion.

The sound of plastic crinkling interrupted her musings as her head shot up.

"Ah! Sasuke!"

His face was lowered in a forced, slight scowl, long hair trailing down a neck the shone with a slight sheen of sweat. Okay, so maybe Sasuke was affected by the heat as well.

"What are you doing here?"

Sakura grinned, "Waiting for you! You were taking forever. You shouldn't have gone out!"

Sasuke raised a dark eyebrow, striding up to her, one hand occupied with carrying the grocery bag, the other pulling her up by the wrist.

"You told me to go out."

"No I didn't, I said I loved you."

Sasuke was silent, bending over to gather her clothes and hang them over his shoulder. How he could still be wearing those dark clothes, Sakura hadn't a clue, but she figured he should get out of them soon, just in case.

"You should be inside." Sasuke said, grasping her wrist as he led her down the street, though being far form forceful.

Sakura whined, "Sasuke! I'm not a kid. I can be outside if I want."

Silence responded to her, accompanied by a scathing glance sent her direction from his coal black eyes. Sakura wanted to do something to get away, just in case, but refrained from taking any action except following his footsteps, just in case.

After the short silence Sasuke finally spoke up, "You may not be a child, but you are certainly carrying mine."

Sakura smiled as she caught up to Sasuke, who had slowed down slightly, eyes glancing her way once more.

"I want you to be careful he said," and this time he avoided looking at her, "just in case."

Sakura laughed, shaking his hand away from her wrist, then grasping it again in her own, entwining their fingers together, despite the heat.

"Okay," she said, just to appease him, along with the fact that he had gone and gotten some ice-cream for (and, she happened to notice, some tomatoes, apparently they were healthy for babies, in Sasuke's account).

"Just in case."

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **This hit me over the head and I just had to fall for it. Hopefully this will become a series of drabbles with a variety of subjects, pairings, etc… Please review and all that good stuff. It really is nice when you do.

This is not a series, just a place to put stories that I wish to record but no pursue. There will be no set date to update, just whenever I feel like or have a writer's block or something or other. Lovies.

Until next time…

emeraldoni


	2. Monologue of the Impatient

**Monologue of the Impatient**

By: emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: Duh._

Did you know, Sasuke, of my love for you? Did you ever realize the absolute determination of my devotion? No, I don't think you ever did.

If someone truly knew of the love bestowed upon them, a gift given to a few, chosen others, then you would not have turned your back. I would see your eyes, instead of remembering your house symbol stitched into dark cloth.

Did you know, Sasuke, how long I waited for you? Did you ever realize the magnitude of what I had given up, just for you? No, I don't think you ever did.

I have had propositions you know, Sasuke. I have been proffered kisses and proposals and the chance to forget and live again. Guess what, Sasuke-kun? I always said no, always refusing those choices of escape, always waiting for you. It hurts sometimes, Sasuke, tapping my fingers and twitching my thighs. I want you back; I want you before me in Konoha without _that _expression.

You wouldn't know that though, would you, Sasuke-kun? Because you're not here.

You're an idiot, a chump, a gullible fool, like a child wandering off with some stranger, candy in hand.

Don't you realize what's going to be done to you, what's being done to you now?

Do you know, Sasuke, of my feelings for you? Do you know that I will follow you to the ends of the earth and beyond, just to bring you back?

Yes, I think you do.

You're sick, twisted, unbalanced, to cause so much pain to your family. I hate you.

I love you.

You balance me; both of us uneven without the other. I know that, you don't…see? Uneven, until we're together.

Come back, you moron, you bastard, we wait for you, we search for you, we fight for you. We even kill for you, and every life we take kills a little part of us, each and every time.

Don't let us die, Sasuke-kun, before you come back.

Don't let me die, Sasuke.

I love you.

I hate you.

I want strangle you.

I want to kiss you.

Wipe that impassive expression from your face; bring back the smugness and smirks and brooding poses. Bring back yourself, Sasuke-kun.

We're waiting, Naruto and I.

I'm waiting, legs shaking in anticipation.

I hate you.

I love you.

You complete me.

Don't keep me waiting.

You idiot.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Worked 18 hours this weekend, have school this week, work after school, kill myself on Friday. No, wait, dammit, I have to work on Saturday too, never mind, no suicide as of yet.

Just a little thing, five minutes max. I had to write something, but not enough time to write the next AU GaaxSaku story. I'm going to bed now.

Until next time…

emeraldoni


	3. Of Girls and Voodoo Dolls

**Of Girls and Voodoo Dolls**

By: emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto._

When delving into the past many people wondered why Orochimaru, one of the three sannin, would turn to the dark side and be hell-bent on destroying the village. No one ever thought to check his past for small little tints of activities that could possibly pull him over the edge. If anything, it would have to be something big and horrible and scarring, nothing like the actual fact.

The legendary three, contrary to popular to belief, did not meet when they were grouped together under their teacher, the Third Hokage. And Orochimaru, unlike what many thought, was actually an outgoing and voracious child, full of life and happiness and while he was a little odd the children didn't tease him as much as they could have, choosing to ignore him instead.

Yet Orochimaru was never one to be down-hearted though, kept company by his minute grass dolls and such; he kept his distance and surveyed his schoolmates with large, golden eyes. It wasn't until a young girl joined class that everything changed.

She had hair blonder than straw and eyes bluer than the sky, and confidence oozed from here very being. They were young then, no more than five years or so, and so she, like many young children of the time, was impressionable. When she saw the young Orochimaru, she immediately formed an opinion none too positive about the anti-social boy with a veil of dark hair over his face.

The boy, oblivious to the opinion formed by his peers, one day approached the young girl who had caught his attention.

"Tsunade-chan," said Orochimaru, holding out a doll tied together by newly picked grass, "Would you like to play with me?"

The small Tsunade—taller than Orochimaru at the time—looked down her nose at him, and said in the simplest of terms-

"I don't like grass dolls."

-then turned to walk away.

Orochimaru stood there as he watched the young girl's back; arms limp at his side as golden eyes gawked at the childlike refusal.

It was at that moment that Orochimaru decided that he didn't like girls, or grass dolls.

Tsunade didn't remember the incident, and in the future she was just as clueless about Orochimaru's betrayal as everyone else was, not even an inkling in her mind that it somehow could have been linked to a childhood misunderstanding long forgotten.

Not that it mattered anyway. Who would believe that it had been Tsunade who turned the Snake-kid onto Voodoo dolls and boys?

Not even Orochimaru, that's who.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Don't be mad at me. I don't know where this came from, but it just popped up as I was checking my e-mail. Please review, it makes me happy and such.

Until next time…

emeraldoni


	4. Finger Painting

**Finger Painting**

By emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: …_

Here eyes were wide with horror disgust at the substance littering her body, soaking into her clothes, dripping off her limbs.

"Sasuke-kun," She whispered, eyes glazed in shock, broken from the force reality had hit her with, "Why?"

His face was impassive despite his voice that held the mocking tint, "Why what, Sakura?"

She was silent, tears burning her cheeks, scalding her face and cutting her flushed skin as it pushed over trembling lips. Her hands, shaking so violently as to be blurred, swept around the clearing. Her eyes followed, as mistake that brought her to her knees, rocks digging into the barely protected patella.

"Oh, that?" Said Sasuke, "They were in my way, Sakura. I'm sure you can understand that."

Sakura shook her head back and forth as she stared up at him, "Sasuke-kun…"

It covered her body and face, a macabre painting with a hint of childlike innocence. She cursed her self for allowing him to do what he did. She cursed him. She cursed her self.

"They were innocent, Sasuke-kun. Innocent…"

Sasuke's voice was hard as he answered, "No one is innocent, Sakura. Not you, not me, no one. Surely you should know that by now."

"They were just children," she whispered.

Sasuke was silent, striding over to her and pressing a finger to her cheek, swirling her tears with the red, a morbid display of beauty. Little whorls and swirls sweeping over her skin, speckles disappearing under his twisting fingers as she became his canvas of pain; and she just held still, frozen eyes locked with his traveling ones, roaming over her body.

"Sakura…" he murmured, index trailing down her neck, caressing her clavicle and circling her shoulder, "It matches you hair."

A shudder racked her form, "You're sick. Sick, Sasuke, sick."

A small, preoccupied smile—barely noticeable—slid over his face, "Perhaps."

She softly grasped his hand, eyes pleading for release, to be left to her own misery and her own devices.

"No, Sakura, allow myself to be selfish for once, allow me to be young."

"You're always selfish, Sasuke-kun. Always…" Sasuke paid no heed, instead talking over her.

"After all, even I like to finger-paint every once in a while."

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Drabble night tonight. It might have something to do with my aversion to having to work tomorrow. I really don't want to. Anyway, this one might be a little disturbing to some, but oh well. Please review and al that good stuff.

Until next time…

emeraldoni


	5. Mischief Beforehand

**Mischief Beforehand **

By: emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: I own this idea, just not the characters. Hm._

'_I can't do this.'_

"I-I can't d-do this… N-Neji."

His eyes looked up at here, impassive but soft at the same time, his uncovered brow glaring at her with a harshness that twisted at her chest.

"Neji…" Her voice felt sad, despairing almost, and she knew this too. They couldn't do this. This just couldn't happen. No matter how much she pined after this…this…thing they had, she could not allow it to pass.

"We have to stop… W-what if w-we're caught?"

She felt a released puff of breath against her shoulder, her skin prickling at the promise of pleasure that would never come, "Hinata-sama… please."

Her hands quivered, and she had to fist them tightly to keep from caressing his cool cheek, "Don't call me that." She whispered, throat constricting in a thoroughly unpleasant emotion. Neji straitened even more at the sound of her voice, his body so close, his eyes mere inches away from hers.

"How can you say that? How can you ask that of me, then push me away?"

Hinata averted her foggy orbs to the rough wooden floor, all too aware of his proximity and the fact that Neji was kneeling in-between her sprawled legs.

"W-what if we get c-caught? N-Neji…"

His hands twitched, gripping her waist slightly as if to never let go, warm calluses against her toned abdomen.

"We won't get caught." And his voice was stronger now, his face determined. He got up, pulling away, and Hinata found she already missed his body heat, the feel of his figure against hers. She felt like crying.

Yet as his hand appeared before her nose, spread in an offering, a choice, Hinata felt her heart un-wring itself.

"A-are you s-sure?"

His lips twitched, but other than that his features revealed nothing else, "I am certain."

"W-well… okay."

And she grasped his hand, allowing him to pull her up into his waiting embrace.

"There's a shed out back no one goes into…"

Hinata gasped, "Neji! N-no!"

Neji smirked, "How about my room then? The door locks, and I have curtains."

Hinata smiled, pecking his cheek, "Perfect."

"They shouldn't mind too much." Neji muttered softly, staring ahead as they began to walk, "Our wedding is only in a few days anyway."

Hinata just laughed.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Okay, so maybe that was a bit OOC and unprecedented, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to drabble.

I think I'm addicted, but fear not, my GaaxSaku story followers! I will do the next chapter soon. I think I have a paragraph started. But not until the weekend, at least. Finals are this week, and this was just a brief respite from the boring work of finishing my painting for art (only a week to do it! How idiotic! American Gothic parody too; freaking huge!)

Until next time…

emeraldoni

PS: I came up with this idea, if anyone wants to participate (doubtful). Give me a keyword or idea, and I will write a drabble on it. Maybe it will be able to pinpoint my writing and offer me a challenge. So, message me, or review, and I will write a little thing for you. I guess its kind of like a request thing.


	6. A Similar Start

**A Similar Start**

By: emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: …_

No one ever realized how truly similar the Legendary Sannin are to the infamous Team Seven. No one ever knew of the intricacies that wrapped about the Sannin in their younger days. The young, teenage emotions drawn and pulsing in hormonal hearts as they slowly ripped themselves apart by misinterpreted lies.

Everyone saw the personalities of the Sannin to their pupils; the strengths and weaknesses, actions and reactions, the way they interacted and the paths they followed.

What the people didn't see was the Sannin's past, how the three's entangled relationships were near identical to that of the Team Seven.

Naruto and Jiraiya to Sakura and Tsunade; the relationship of violent fondness. Perverse and loving all in the same moment, a crush from man to women, boy to girl, that would last in the form of protecting each other.

Sasuke and Orochimaru to Naruto and Jiraiya; the relationship of a close rivalry. Harsh and friendly at the same time, they would do anything to prove themselves to the other, anything to keep the other safe.

…Sakura and Tsunade to Sasuke and Orochimaru…

Sakura loves Sasuke, there is no refuting that. She would follow him to the end of the world and back, hope shining in her voice and support in every step. Her fingers will always reach out to his back, and he will always rely on her there, with attachment hidden beneath faux resentment.

And then…and then… we come to relationship unknown to many. Few ever realize the depth of Orochimaru's and Tsunade's attachment to one another. Most know them as teammates, comrades sworn to each other in a bond that all shinobi wear. Yet that is not the whole story…

For Tsunade loved Orochimaru, as Orochimaru loved Tsunade. They were young, juvenile maybe, but devoted none the less. The Snake Sannin was reserved but gentle, as Tsunade was brash but soft. And they would do anything for one another.

"I love you." She would whisper against his lips, un-warped at the time, for it was before Orochimaru had turned. And he would smile just a bit, golden eyes liquid warm as his fingers gripped her waist and lips brushed over her face. Tsunade's hazel eyes would close over as they became immersed in one another.

And everything was perfect.

Yet as fate tends to do, it brought something about that neither participated, a brutal shock, a slap in the face.

For it was at the time that a mistake was made, a mistake that changed the course of Konoha's future in such a way that little could the residents comprehend such a twist in time.

Orochimaru made the mistake of feeling fear, unreasonable fear. He felt the fear of losing what was his; his lover, his life, his power. He made the mistake of acting on this fear, going behind Tsunade's back to do what he thought was right.

And this was his final mistake.

He let the fear control him, soon warping him into a power-hungry monster, capable of hate and fear but finding love impossible. He had done exactly what he was afraid of, putting his life and lover in danger. From himself.

We know what happens after that. How Orochimaru gets caught, how he flees and vows the downfall of his home village, how he flows through time and bodies only to end where we are now, with Sasuke in his grasp.

And we know what happens to Tsunade, as she loses one by one all her loved ones, Orochimaru the starting curse of it all, the cause of it all. We know how she defies that loss and then comes out more powerful than ever before, with Sakura in her grasp.

And we see this path being followed once more. We see this path being tread as to be bare with in its worn down state, the story so similar, a tangent being pulled off the very beginning of it all, with the Legendary Sannin.

Sometimes at night, the Hokage will think of her first lover, the man who caused near every problem and pain she had ever felt.

And sometimes at night, the Snake Sannin will muse on the woman—the only woman—he had once held in his arms. He, being who he has become, feels no remorse.

And neither does she.

They both know, one day they will battle, and she will fight for her loss, and he will fight for her protection.

And they will both be misled.

…

Not many know how similar the Legendary Sannin are to the infamous Team Seven, but the few that do hold it close to their hearts, and prepare themselves for the day when all this will end.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Okay, now don't kill me. You guys may hate me for that, but I couldn't help myself. It's been in my mind for a while and I just had to get it out. Yeah, it was really weirdly written; sorry; but I'm not in the mood to spruce it up.

So, please review…

Until next time…

emeraldoni


	7. Treble and Bass

**Treble and Bass**

By: emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, not me. _

Keyword: Betrayal

That's how life went, how the earth turned, how the world spun. That's how it would have to be, inevitable, like her death, bound to happen by the gleaming chains called fate. It was a dark void in her mind, a screaming betrayal that caused the utmost depravity for her self to act so...undignified.

Deep in her heart, as her fingers bled from digging, digging, digging—she knew it wasn't his fault. But the pain… oh, the pain. It caught at her and clutched like a jagged fishing hook and every attempt at un-lodging it just caused another wave of sharp bleeding to appear before her eyes—in her chest.

How could this have happened? Orochimaru-sama had said it would be easy. He had said the Leaf shinobi were weak and spineless, that this mission would be one of the easiest of them all.

And yet… they were all gone.

Her comrades, gone, un-breathing, lifeless eyes glassed over, the musical rhythms of their hearts stilled, the melody of their life's done.

But that couldn't be for him. He was strong. He was the elder. He was _special. _

_So that couldn't have happened to him._

But the sand shouted otherwise, biting under her nails and creeping into her wounds. Kami forbid that he should be lying under there, breathless, blank…dead.

She cried out, a sob racking her thin chest, tears melding with the blood that dripped from her once bright hair. He was supposed to be the leader! The one with the power! With a flick of his pale wrist he could throw them all to the ground.

So why wasn't he doing just that? Why wasn't he up and awake and being cool and aloof and rude like usual?

And—and…

Wait…

There!

She began digging again, strained exuberance in every movement, every sweep of her arms as the sand that held his body in a lover-like embrace was slowly pressed to the side.

And finally she could see his face, pale and sallow, bones sharp over hollow cheeks and deep bruises under his eyes.

His breathing was shallow.

He was breathing.

He was alive.

"Kimimaro…" She whispered brokenly under her breath as she pulled the rest of his body from the ground. His skin was cold to her touch. Yet as she rested his head in her lap, trying not to stain his beautiful hair with her blood, she felt content, a little cold, but comfortable. After all, she finally had him close enough to embrace, finally had him leaning on her, instead of the other way around.

And their breathing fell in sync with each other, shallow, short, but calm.

She smiled as she gazed down at his face, his wonderful, amazing face. Tears streamed from her eyes, but she didn't really mind now. It was okay.

And that was how Kimimaro died.

And unlike before, unlike the hate they had once felt for each other, she did something for him.

Tayuya followed.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **I know that was kind of an odd use of the keyword, but it's a drabble, so it doesn't have to be exact. If you have any keywords or whatever you'd like me to use, just leave it in a review or contact me and I'll try to use it.

Please review.

Until next time…

emeraldoni

Next Keyword up: KakaSaku (I know it's not the traditional keyword, but I want to try it out anyway. Hopefully I won't completely bomb it.)


	8. One of a Kind

**One of a Kind**

By emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: I am not owned by Naruto. I wish I was though. _

Keyword/Pairing: KakaSaku

She had never been all that close to Kakashi, now that she thought back on things. In fact, she hadn't been really close to any of them. Each of them had a bond, unbendable, unbreakable, no matter what betrayal came about somehow that link was still there.

But that's not how it was with Sakura. With every step she took away from them, the distance grew. With every exchanged word, her knowledge lessened. Naruto and Sasuke had always been best friends, and Kakashi had always been Sasuke's teacher. Yet there was no place for her there. Sakura was the weak link, the outcast, the annoyance that was tolerated, but just that. She was Team 7's growth, a fungus, if you will.

And that was why she was so surprised when Kakashi had stopped for her as she sat crying under the barren tree. It wasn't that anything horrible had happened. No life changing tragedy took place, or some breaking of her soul. She only shed tears from the sudden overwhelming of life that had taken a hold of her. She had just been practicing a jutsu, unable to get it right, when all her shortcomings, everything wrong and bad, washed over her, drowning her out and leaking through her now red eyes. It was about a few minutes after that her ex-sensei had shown up.

Sakura didn't think he noticed at first, for he waved at her with his normal lackadaisical exuberance, eliciting a lazy "Yo," that comforted her just a tad. But as he came closer his step became wary and his eye latched onto her blotchy face that struggled so hard to staunch the obvious tears, lips twisting in a grimace like smile.

"Kakashi-sensei! Hey!"

He stopped a few feet away from her, dark eye foreign with concern, "Sakura…"

She just ignored it, covering it with a light tone that wouldn't stop breaking, "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in forever. I think it's been months."

With a little sigh, Kakashi settled himself next to her, leaning against the tree as Sakura tried to conspicuously wipe her cheeks free from anymore teary signs. She tried not to scowl at the fact that his face was hidden (for she sat on his left side) and that he had gotten his book out.

Finally after a few moments, Kakashi spoke, "I've been fine. You?"

Sakura released a sigh. It was already uncomfortable enough with Kakashi; the silence was just outright awkward though.

"Good, I guess, just working, you know, the usual."

"Hm."

Sakura relaxed against the tree, trying to feign aloofness. For some reason she had the feeling that Kakashi wouldn't be tricked, but it didn't hurt to try anyway, right? Her burning eyes trailed across the devastated clearing (where her frustrations had spilled over) and then back to Kakashi's covered face. Even after eight years, she still hadn't seen his face bare—as a whole, at least. She had seen pieces; the chin, the nose, the mouth, but never altogether. It was more that Naruto could say he had seen—there were some plusses to being a medic-nin after all—but it just wasn't the same thing.

Sakura was jolted out of her reverie by Kakashi's low voice, "I saw Sasuke the other day. He's doing well."

"That's good for him, I guess."

Kakashi answered with another, "Hm."

There was another silence where Sakura contemplated over his words. Was he trying to make conversation with her? Did Kakashi think Sasuke was the only way to make conversation with her? Well. She would just have to prove that wrong, wouldn't she?

"Hey, Kakashi?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"What?"

He wasn't looking at his book anymore. In fact, he had put Icha Icha Paradise down in his lap, one gray eye facing her in clear shock and confusion.

"I said; do you have a girlfriend, Kakashi-sensei?"

"Uhm. I don't think that's a very appropriate question, Sakura."

Sakura started up at him innocently, faux naivety in her eyes, "How come? Did I say something wrong?"

Kakashi was silent for a moment, and she swore she saw incredulity in his one eye, "Are you alright, Sakura?"

Sakura smile up at him slightly, trying to ignore her cheeks which seemed to be quivering with her forced smile. She hoped she didn't look like too much of an idiot.

"Mmhm. Why?"

"No reason."

Both of them sat back simultaneously. Kakashi's face hidden to her once again, though she had a feeling he couldn't see her. That didn't really matter when it concerned Kakashi, thought Sakura, considering that he must be aware of things with some other sense since his head was always buried in his pervy book.

Sakura drew her legs up slightly and leaned forward, draping her elbows over her knees.

"I don't have a girlfriend."

For a second Sakura had no idea what he was talking about—too shocked that he had answered her question, but then her brain kicked in.

"Aa. You know, I don't really see you as the type to have a girlfriend." Sakura pondered for a moment, mouthing her thoughts, "But then again, I'm not the type to have a boyfriend either, huh?"

"Hmm. Maybe."

"Maybe we're one of a kind, eh, sensei?" Sakura slightly elbowed him in the side, forgetting the awkwardness that had settled over them like ice, now thawing out in the face of her teasing.

"Maybe, Sakura." Kakashi was silent for another moment, "You should have boys all over you. I'm shocked you don't."

Sakura wished she could see the other side of his face, to see his expression, but it was no use, his hitai-ate and mask were in the way. She could hear what was on the other side, but not confirm it with her eyes.

"Well, same goes for you, sensei. I have a temper, so boys are too scared, but you're not that old." She grinned at him, "Maybe if you got your head out of those dirty books of yours you could snatch a girl."

"Sorry, Sakura. The girl would have to understand the way of Icha Icha."

"I guess that's the same with boys and my temper then."

Kakashi raised his novel to his face, body tense, "Your temper isn't that bad, Sakura."

Sakura was silent for a moment, trying to not pay attention to the fact that a slight blush had crossed her features.

"Well, your books aren't that bad either. I think my favorite is the fifth volume."

Kakashi lowered the book again, turning to face her, "Sakura…"

"Well," she said defensively, "I had to see what all the fuss was about."

"You're not old enough."

"I'm twenty."

"…"

Sakura smiled, glancing at her watch.

"Oh crap! I'm late! I was supposed to be at the hospital a half an hour ago!"

Scrambling about, Sakura started to rush off.

"Sakura." She paused at the sound of her name, pausing to face Kakashi, "Don't cry anymore."

She smiled softly, striding back over to him. Slowly she hunched down, looking him in the eye, before quickly pressing a quick peck to his masked lips.

"Thanks, Kakashi."

And with that, she walked away, ignorant of Kakashi's eyes latched to her retreating form.

They would talk again, he decided.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **I know, that was really long for a drabble, but the story ran away with itself. Kakashi is a hard character to write. I think I may have to work with him some. It's similar to when I first started writing with Gaara. Maybe I'll do a short story sometime or something. This was fun though.

Again, I'm open to any other keywords, themes, pairing, etc… until someone suggests something I'll just write whatever.

Please review.

Until next time…

emeraldoni


	9. Echo

**Echo**

By: emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: Naruto is owned by Masashi Kishimoto, not me. _

Keyword: Jealousy

Shisui.

Every year I visit your grave. Not the one where your body rests with the rest of them, but the grave where you met your end. To the last second, to your last breath, you thought it was an accident, until you finally looked in my eyes, and saw the truth.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, as you clutched at your sodden chest with eyes confused by what had just happened.

But you should have known. You shouldn't have been confused.

I told them I was the one that found the secret of the mangekyo sharingan, but it wasn't me. It was you. Why would I search for more power when I knew I already had enough, that my capacity was more than that of the best ninja in Konoha? I could have been Hokage easily, if I had wanted, without even the snap of the fingers.

But you changed that, grasping my arm as you pulled me into the corner, trusting me with the scroll you had found by accident while cleaning up a storage room. You were never much immersed in the shinobi life, though you had always claimed the goal to be the best when you were young. Yet though you were great, you never used that power as you should have.

You were happy that way, and I hated it.

Why you, and great shinobi with no ambition, could be so content with life was beyond me. You were my best friend, but I hated you, I still do. When I talked to you, confided in you, I would tell you of my unhappiness, of how I did not know who I was.

You would pat me on the back, a comforting grin on your features which were so similar yet so different to my own, and you would say, "Don't worry about it, Itachi, you'll find your place. It just takes time."

And I allowed time its chance, but for some reason time didn't give me my place, my comfort. It didn't give me anything but self-loathing and the jealousy I felt for you, a nobody who was lower than me.

Yet you still trusted me, slapping my arm after you showed me that fated scroll, saying you could trust me, how this would be our secret.

That night I memorized the scroll, and decided that since I could not find my place in life, I would make it.

And I did just that.

I told you I had a problem, there was something wrong. It was late at night, windows dark except for the occasional flickering candle, the Uchiha district in a deep slumber, the scroll burning a hole in my pocket. The river was the perfect place, foggy, the water lapping quietly against the shore. It was peaceful, as were your dark eyes before I killed you.

I like to visit that spot, during the night when the fog rises and the water shifts calmly against the shore. Your voice echoes and I revel in that memory. Then I activate the mangekyo sharingan, my tribute to you.

I do this for you, yet you still won't leave my head. I hate you. Even after all these years, after your body has rotted away, as well as the rest of the Uchiha clan, I still hear your voice in my ears.

You said I would find my place in the world, Shisui

Well, I'm still waiting.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Damn, I'm just being barraged with inspiration this week. Maybe it was seeing the review and the keywords, while reading and Itachi fic. He may be a little wack, but I love the psycho.

I just wish I knew was Shisui

Please review.

Until next time…

emeraldoni

Next keyword—heartbreak.


	10. Heartbroken

**Heartbroken**

By: emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, not me._

Keyword: Heartbroken

Warning: There may be some content unsuitable for some. It is not explicit, but it is still present. So, you have been warned.

She was numb. Numb to the world. Numb to her self. Numb to him.

The panting groans, the sweat lusting bodies as he moved rhythmically above her, caressing her limbs, jolting her lips with his own…she was numb. His dark hair brushed against her face, his eyes closed with the rising of his own ecstasy. And, unlike any of her dreams, she stayed still, because she was numb, unblinking.

When it was over, she lay, staring at the ceiling as he relaxed beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist, snuggling his nose into her hair.

"Mine." He whispered, tickling the back of her neck, where the pink hair now grew long split.

And that's what she was. His. Just like what she had waited for, had always wished for. More than anything else, she had wanted him.

And yet, fate had different plans, twisting her dream into a nightmare that was a horror in more ways than one. Dreams twisted like the sharingan he used on her, twisted like the soul he carried, twisted like the way he caught her.

He was nothing like before, nothing like the little boy she once loved. She was heartbroken, because the he was now a man, a man who loved her, but she not him.

She was heartbroken, because she was Sakura, and he was Sasuke.

**Oooo000OOO000ooo**

**A/N: **A little morbid, I know, but I've been feeling extremely unhappy due to the fact that I have been really sick lately. Really sick. But, ah well. Life sucks, blah blah blah. Just wanted to show you guys I was alive, and I should hopefully update ABDintheN soon (I was planning to this weekend, but that didn't end up so well.)

Please review.

Until next time,

Emeraldoni

Next Keyword: Vacuum cleaner


	11. Simple

**Simple**

By: emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: I do not claim any rights to Naruto, because it only belongs to Masashi Kishimoto. _

He was her everything. Yes, they fought for Konoha, and that was their job, their honor, their loyalty. But their love…yeah…that only belonged to each other. And when she learned of his death, after those fateful moments of naïve foreshadowing, she had lost all that love that had been held her heart, and instead it morphed into something completely different, something that drove her to be the best.

She would see his scarred face in her mind's eye every so often. Oddly enough, it was never when she visited his simple, barren grave, but when she was doing average, everyday tasks. And during those moments, when these flashes of the past barraged her, she would have to sit down, all the while twisting the plain, golden band encircling her ring finger.

She never took that ring off. Never. Not when she slept, nor when she took a shower, not even when she went on missions and blood and entrails claimed her hands much closer than anyone else, except for him. At those times, it was like she was sacrificing for him. The deaths never reached her, just a twisting of the intestine that was a sick satisfaction—that she had killed the ones who would be her love's enemies.

And though things had changed, though he wasn't there and she no longer was disgusted by her murderous fingers, she still tended her flowers and cleaned their quaint little flat and made dinner for two—every single night.

And that's how it would always be, until the day she died. She would live like anyone else with disabled emotions and pained smiles, though her chin would be held high and her hands would be steady. She would always be alone, until the day she finally got to share that simple little plot of earth with him, until finally they were both in a grave.

Because though death parted them, it would also bring them together, for that's how it was meant to be.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Well, this just popped up at 10 Pm at night and I had to get it out of my system. I've been so overwhelmed lately. And this is going to be kept short because I have to go to bed so I can get up early and do my HW.

Can you guess who this couple is supposed to be? You've got to be really up to date to know. Hint: Team 10, and Team 8.

Please review.

Until next time,

emeraldoni

PS: I'll get to the 'Vacuum cleaner' drabble next time. This just hit me and I had to write it. Sorry.


	12. Names

**Names**

By: emeraldoni

She hated his name, and never hid that fact from him.

"It's too long," she told him, curling her fingers in his inky hair as he slowly massaged her thighs.

"It's different, though," he would reply, indifference in his voice, because, in all reality, he completely agreed with her. After all, every man wanted their girl to shout their name in the throes of ecstasy, but if your name was too long…well, then, you're screwed.

Sometimes they would make lists of nicknames they could use for him, late into the night, bodies naked as they sat at the table with only one, dim, light to accompany them. Yet none of the names ever seemed to fit and they would end up just retreating to the sack—her screaming meaningless nothings while he grunted her name over and over and over and over and…

_(Tsunade Tsunade Tsunade Tsunade Tsunade Tsunade Tsunade Tsunade Tsunade) _

Over and over and over and over and-

-in the morning they would wake, his face on her breast and her fingers curled into his hair and she would smile, her hazel eyes washing over his golden ones with a warmth and love that he could never understand.

_(and over and over never understanding perfect outcast alone and-)_

then he would go to his lab and mutilate people with pleasure while testing his oh-so-many theories on them and try to find something that made him _him _like she was _she. _

_(because warmth love forgiveness and forgetfulness and mix-ups and-)_

he would return home that night with a soft smile on his face reserved only for her and the one's he killed, and they were oh-so-similar yet oh-so-different, not that she could ever tell because she would never see his _other _smile. That's what he told himself, reassurance.

She would kiss his cheek modestly and he would pervade it with something much more passionate that would end wit her pressed against the wall and his fingers playing across smooth skin under rough cloth. She always liked that, though she would never admit it. And she would moan something about dinner burning-

_(over and over and over and over and perfect and over and love and over and-)_

he would ignored it, instead pressing his hips to hers until she used her chakre to push him away, but not out of malice. He was to skinny already, she said, he needed to eat.

He only needed her _(over and over and over and-) _he said.

But she would still force him to eat and he would do so until one night she did not greet him with a kiss to the cheek. He saw her with pained eyes _(over and over and over and over and pain and breaking and over and-) _as he paced towards her with his smile. The wrong smile.

And then things happened and the past became the present and the present the future and he finally got his nickname, the Snake Sannin, though he lost her-

_(over and over and over and over and over-)_

and every second he did not see her and missed the way her body danced under his and her hands roamed his toned muscles he would remember late nights, bare and warm, with only one, dim, light to accompany them until they retreated to the sack where she would never scream his name.

She always hated his name, and he knew it too.

And then they got their students, and the future became the past and the present became both and it happened-

_(over and over and over and over and-)_

again.

**0**

**A/N: **Okay, the _next _one will "vacuum cleaner" (I have the perfect idea for it, but I keep getting interrupted by these strange urgings that I just can't ignore).

Also, I realize that it is very…stylized, but I couldn't help myself, that's just how it happened.

Please review.

Until next time…

emeraldoni


	13. Remembrance

**Remembrance**

By emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, and rightfully so, because I would just make a huge mess of things._

They sit at the end of the boardwalk, a salty breeze licking their cheeks and nipping at their clothes as they relax impassively. Any passerby would see an average moment, one unnoticeable, a second to be lost in the deep wastes of the mind.

But that was not what this moment was.

This moment was the rare peace found between enemies who had nothing common. It was a tranquility found by few, a sharing of serenity that allowed the soul to wipe away the blood before they were forced to bury their hearts once more.

"This is nice, isn't it, Itachi-san?"

Itachi nodded his head slightly, eyes unfocused and far away as he stared out across the never-ending expanse of sea. "Hm."

Sakura allowed a soft smile, head lolling to rest on her shoulders. On both sides sat her enemies, calm and silent. Their fingers were red, there hair matted, but the expressions on their faces were more beautiful then anything she had ever seen. It was the expression of a person who had seen the bile of the earth, and had lived to see the good afterwards.

Kisame, gray face loose and free, looked at home next to the ocean which equally matched his skin tone. Sakura swung her feet back and forth, the concrete beneath her cool. It should have bugged her, but it didn't. The warmth of her companions negated the discomfort.

After another few moments of silence, Sakura stood up with a groan, patting her rear to free it from any muck. Next to her, the two men stood up silently as well. They towered over her, faces impassive, eyes searching.

"Well," she said, voice wistful, "I guess we should be heading back, hm?"

They both nodded, and she quickly took their larger hands in her small, dainty ones.

Her voice was silent, whispery, "we'll meet again, hopefully in another time, another place."

Slowly, Kisame brushed a callused finger against her cheek, and Itachi nosed into her vibrant hair while loosely embracing her.

"Yes, Sakura. Another time, another place."

….

_(She remembers pain, then numb, then darkness.)_

"Sakura!"

….

_(She remembers a tranquility surpassed by none.)_

….

"Sakura, please! Wake up!"

….

_(She remembers screams. She remembers the taste of salt against her lips.)_

….

"Kami, kami, kami, _please!"_

….

_(She remembers peace and forgiveness. She remembers the future. She remembers what could be.)_

….

When she wakes up Naruto is hovering over her, hugging her tightly in his arms. His body is convulsing with fear and loss and the feeling of being so close to falling over the edge. She wishes she could comfort him, but she cannot move.

She doesn't have to though, because soon her looks up at her, eyes so full of relief and guilt and the seeing of sunlight after a cloudy day.

She is crying, but she is not sure why.

And roughly Naruto presses a palm against her cheek, wiping away the tears from her face, the taste of salt from her lips, leaving only the retched taste of copper.

"Why are you crying, Sakura?"

_(Because she remembers.)_


	14. Weakness

**Weakness**

_::Sometimes she forgets things...::_

Then she would wake up, a body dead at her feet, the lingering residue of a well-known intruder in her brain, and she would ask-

"How could you?"

And like a leaf, gentle, slowly falling to the ground in the back of her mind, a voice would whisper back, _"He deserved it."_

_Deserved it…_

_Deserved it…_

And the trees would rustle in a strong breeze around her, their voices chiming in, adding to the silent chaos.

" _He was going to kill you."_

"_You had to live."_

"_Sakura, Sakura, weak, annoying, Sakura."_

And her eyes would go hollow, her face slack, arms limp by her side, burning tears running down sallow cheeks. She would be grateful that she doesn't remember. She doesn't think she could handle it.

"_Little girl," _a nasty voice whispers in the darkness behind her eyes, _"how will you survive if you cannot kill? Weak, stupid little girl."_

And she hates it because they don't leave her alone. No rest, no peace, just the constant hum of them as they shove the truth into her face, painfully, torturously.

She will want to die soon.

Because she is strong, she will want to die. She is strong and thus the weakness eats her from the inside out, rotting her brain and heart, spreading through her chest and stomach, down her legs, up her arms, through her neck and head. She is infected with weakness and her strength can't handle it.

And so, when she wakes up one afternoon in the middle of the chattering, bright forest with another corpse at her feet, she will cry and scream and wish to die. Because she is strong, and that's what strong people do.

When they find her, she is shaking with shame, but smiling a weak, watery smile anyway, because the weakness is eating at her _(though she is strong)._

_::...but she has to, if she wants to survive::_


	15. Execution

His execution was set for 3:21 AM, seven hours after he was brought home.

It was surreal, in a way, that he was gone, or, at least, nearly so. That in a matter of minutes, they would inject an overdose of sleeping drugs into him and, silently, he would slip away, as quietly as he left before, as quietly as he had came home. Sakura hoped, in the back of her mind, in a tiny reservoir of her heart, that he would attempt to escape, that he would run away, that he would use his amazing powers and flee minutes before she had to enter that needle in his battle-hardened skin.

But she knew that wouldn't happen. He had told her, him self, as they carried him through the overpowering Konoha gates, that he was tired of fighting and killing and being hurt. He was tired of being powerful. He would not escape.

At 3:20 AM, on a clear night with just a sliver of the moon shining, Sakura entered a dank cell that held a criminal that was above S-class. His dark hair was long and loose, lank beside his gaunt face. His eyes, so dark they seemed like hollow voids, held the lurking power of a weapon that she hoped to never see again. With this, the Sharingan would be nearly gone.

"I'm sorry," Sakura whispered, poising the needle at the crook of his elbow, grasping the pale skin and trying not to look at his face, because then it would be too personal, and she would not be able to follow through. Her fingers trembled, her heart beat fast, and she could feel his breath puff softly against her bowed head.

She attempted to keep back tears.

He said nothing, just grabbed her hand, and pushed the needle into his skin.

Maybe it was anticlimactic, or maybe she was expecting more, but instead she got up, staring down as his breathing slowed and stopped, as his body relaxed and slumped over. Her chin, though trembling, was held high, and though her knees felt weak, she walked a steady line when she left that cell just a few minutes later.

Maybe there should have been, but there was no relief. The loathing, anger, hatred, that she felt for him had disappeared, despite his actions, and instead it was replaced with a deep-seeded somberness that probably didn't warrant the occasion. While others would celebrate, Sakura would sit in her small flat and ponder over what she had done.

At 3:22 AM, Uchiha Itachi died—executed by his lover, Uchiha Sakura.


End file.
